Of Late Lunch & Coffee
by gyuumajo
Summary: My 1st attempt at a CSI fic & no one is reviewing... *sob*
1. Of Late Lunch & Coffee

Disclaimers: CSI belongs to their CBS & whoever else that owns them. My OCs belongs to me. Their names belongs to their respective first-name possessors. :P

* * *

His name is Bobby Dawson & he isn't here today. 3.45pm exactly but Mr. Punctuality was not here yet. Even though we'd only knew each other for a couple of weeks but I'd always looked forward to meeting up with him. I took a sip of my coffee, the smell triggered the replay of the day when we forged our friendship over a cup of brown, aromatic liquid.

~~~

"Good afternoon, may I take your order please?" the new crew greeted a little too brightly. Deciding to see if there is anything inside that pretty head of hers, I asked the 'ritual' question.

"I'll like some coffee…and breakfast," I grinned. Lil Miss Newbie frowned in confusion.

"Miss, it's way past 11. We stopped making those 4 hours ago," Oh, she can count! Behind her, I saw the shift manager chuckle.

"Relax, Grace. She comes here everyday & she would always tease the new crews with that question," 

At that, Grace grinned sheepishly. "Anything _else_ I do get for you other than getting you your coffee & being the butt of your jokes?"

"Gimme a cheese burger with that. Thanks," Heehee…another one bites the dust. I took my tray & retreated to my usual corner, the corner that has the whole view of the street. Halfway through my burger, another person entered. Bite me coz I eat slow…but there shouldn't be anyone around here at this time. It's usually just me & my coffee.

The stranger, decked in a pair of Adidas track pants & a slightly crumpled T-shirt, flashed me a small smile before making his way to the counter.

"Good afternoon sir, how may I help you?" Grace greeted again.

"Hi, I'll like some coffee & uh…say, do you guys still have breakfast?" The guy asked in an accent that I figured is Texan, his tone playful. Grace shot me a look but I shrugged innocently. I'm as puzzle as you are, Grace! Cowboy followed Grace's line of view, cocking an eyebrow. "Is somethin' wrong?"

"No, no! Breakfast closed at 11. Would you like anything else instead?"

"A double cheese please,"

"Okay," Grace proceeded rather efficiently with his orders.

"Thanks," Concluding that it's none of my business anymore, I turned my attention back to my half-eaten burger.

"Hi…" I had just stuffed the last bit of my burger, which also happened to be a fairly large piece, into my mouth before looking up puffy-cheeked at the polite, accented gentleman that had "played" our beloved newbie with the same trick as mine. Swallowing hard, I just had to choke at that precise moment. I coughed on reflex, watching the guy with curly dirty blond hair set his tray down hurriedly. He handed me his coffee, which I accepted very gratefully, and patted me hard on my back. "Are you okay?" his soft gentle voice laced with concern.

"I will be… *cough*" I managed to say rather huskily. Finishing the remaining of the coffee, I gestured for him to take the empty seat at my booth.

"Thank you," he beamed happily & slid in, facing me. "I'm sorry about startlin' you just now,"

"Nah, it's ok. I should be sorry for finishing your coffee," I pointed to the empty Styrofoam cup that used to hold his coffee.

"Haha…no problem. You might wanna treat me to another cup though," At that comment, I was suddenly aware of his eye bags.

"Jeez, what did you do last night??" I joked.

"I moved into town—among other things," was his reply. No wonder…it's not everyday you find a Texan in the middle of Las Vegas. "I'll be startin' work only tomorrow,"

"I see… Wait here. I'll get you some more caffeine-filled beverage pronto,"

"Twin of yours?" Grace asked sarcastically.

"Only if my twin is a Texan cowboy but what are the chances of that?" I grinned my infamous Cheshire cat grin. "My, you are the first crew I'd seen that adapted so quickly! 2 more cups of coffee,"

"It's one of my many talents," she answered simply, handing me my coffees before ringing up the money.

"Right…"

"Back, here's your coffee…" I felt my voice trailed off. Within the time span of about two minutes, cowboy had finished his burger!

"Thank you,"

"Are you really that hungry?" He nodded, blushing cutely. Aww…I wanna reach over & just pinch him!

"Say, aren't you supposed to be working?"

"I work nights,"

"Really?! I work nights too! I mean, after I start work, that is," he gulped his coffee down thirstily. "What do you work as?"

"I bartend at this casino uptown,"

"Wow!! I'd never met a female bartender before. And casino! Do you gamble?"

"I indulge occasionally. But yes, there aren't many barmaids around. My trade is more male-dominated," I sighed. It's true! Deep down, I wish more females would take the initiative to break into these male-dominated worlds. But that's not the point. The point is, we chatted for close to an hour when I ended our talk reluctantly coz if we don't stop then, I would be very late for work.

~~~

And that was how we met.  Every afternoon, we would order our brunch & possibly dinner & of course, coffee, sat at my usual booth & talked until either one of us needed to leave.

4.03pm. He still isn't here yet. I sighed. Maybe he wouldn't be coming today… the opening of the door jolted me out of my depressing reverie.

"I'm so sorry! I overslept… rough night yesterday,"

"Tell me about it," I smiled at the panting male, a year my senior (I found that out recently), offering him the other cup of coffee I bought.

END!!!

* * *

This is shorter than I thought! Whew… Hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. 

Just in case someone don't know: brunch=breakfast-cum-lunch

Read and review!!!

^_~


	2. Of Tinted Shades & Turntables

Disclaimers: CSI belongs to their CBS & whoever else that owns them. OCs & plot belongs to me. Mixed alcoholic drinks belongs to themselves. @_@

* * *

Her name is Reeta Smith, with double e's instead of the usual 'i'. She always stressed on that little fact. From the hair, down to her nails, everything about her screamed 'unique' & she had intended to keep it that way. Her hair was dyed a nice shade of dark blue was cut short near the jaw line. In between there were streaks of red, a weird combo but she had pulled it off perfectly. Decked in a camouflage baby doll t-shirt & plain dark green cargo pants, she tapped her black painted nails  to the music. This was the first time I went over to check her workplace out. I hadn't mentioned my off day to her during our daily afternoon/evening meetings & skillfully diverted the topic of my work that night, deciding to keep my visit a surprise. Pushing my yellow-tinted glasses higher up the bridge of my nose, I slid into an empty seat at the corner of the bar counter, willing her to notice & take my orders.

"What can I get for you?" she yelled above the loud music in the background, her eyes still focused on the DJ on the other side of the bar.

"Tequila please," I yelled back. It was only when my voice registered in her ears that she turned to face me, wide-eye with surprise.

"Bobby! What're you doing here?? Don't you have to work today?"

"Nah…I didn't. It's my night off," I laughed. "Betcha a hundred bucks you didn't recognize me until I opened my mouth."

"I sure didn't! You look—"

"Yo, Reeta! Get him his drink & help me out here! Jeez…" the other bartender scowled. 

"Sorry, Brian!" she shouted back. "Here's your tequila. I'll be right back."

"Go," I grinned as I shooed her away.

~~~

The rap-rock remix finally died down as the next DJ took center stage. Trance music drifted into the air very soon, taking the people's mood with it. All the aggressive behaviors seemed to dissipate into thin air as the bass line thumped gently in the background. This was, as Reeta had mentioned, a very busy place. The crowd continued to streamed in even as the night drew to a close. I had managed my 5th tequila by the time someone took a seat beside me. Not a lot of were there alone so the bar counter was relatively empty.

"Brian, my usual," a very familiar voice called out not as loud as I had to earlier.

"Got it," Brian slapped the coaster down in front of him & placed a tall glass of brownish liquid on it. The bar tender shook his head lightly & muttered. "Why would anyone get vodka coke? That thing is wrong dude… it's either vodka on it's own or coke on it's own." 

"Be different, that's my motto," the same familiar voice answered cheerfully. 

"Someone I know lives by that motto too," I interrupted softly, turning just in time as the man choke on his drink. And the person I knew with that motto stared back at me with the same wide-eyed look of shock as Reeta.

"Dawson? Bobby Dawson?! What are you doing here?"

"Could've asked the same question, Greg," I grinned. 

"Woah, this is freaky Friday isn't it?" Greg Sanders returned my grin. "First, I didn't know we had the same night off. Second, I'd always figured you're the rifle range type of guy. Third, cool shades."

"We'd always had the same night off, didn't you know? I'll take the 'rifle range type of guy' as a compliment but I only go there during the day if I get up early enough. And thank you, I like my shades too," the spiky haired lab tech nodded before taking another swig of his vodka coke. "So, back to the original question. What are you doing here?"

"I'm a guest DJ here. Used to play a bit more last time but I can barely squeeze in a night. You know, someday I feel like sleeping in the whole day & not move unless absolutely necessary,"

"Yeah…I know how that feels like. In fact, I feel that way every other day," I laughed. "And I'd never thought you do turntables. Just now, I thought it was some punk still in high school mixing."

Greg raised an eyebrow. "I look that small?"

"Young. You look that young," I corrected. "But the point is, you & turntables? No one will believe me if I said I saw you,"

"I know, Bobby. I know," he gave a dramatic sigh & returned his empty glass onto the coaster before giving me an once-over. I only had on a black tee & a pair of jeans. What's there to look at? "Dude, you look positively _not_ you. In a good way, I mean."

"Weird… it's amazing what these cool shades can do to someone isn't it?"

"Do you always dress like this outside of the lab?" Oh well, that's what you get for wearing those checkered shirts to work & something completely different away from work. 

"Sans the tinted glasses, yes. Why?" 

"Coz you look like your rebel twin even without the shades. So not Bobby Dawson," 

"Okay, so you're trying to say that the Bobby Dawson you thought you know is this dorky guy who likes to play with guns right?" I grinned. "Well, sorry to say it but the Bobby Dawson I know is this cool guy who likes to play with guns."

That got Greg howling with laughter. It wasn't until a full minute later he managed to calm down.

"That was great! Didn't think you were capable of that,"

"Of what? Cracking a joke?! I am fully capable of making one but hey, you're the resident joker there. I just didn't wanna steal your jester's hat from you," I dropped my joking tone to a serious one. "I can do it. You know I can don't you?"

And that earned me another bout of laughter. Yup, he knows I can.

"I see you made a friend," Reeta smiled approvingly. "With Greg Sanders no less."

"Yeah, well—"

"Wait…he said something about working in the forensic area too…" she gasped. "You work together?!"

I nodded & beamed at her. Poor girl, shocked by the same man twice today. 

END!!!

* * *

Despite the "END" I wrote behind the 1st part, I think I need this to explain some stuffs—or I could just say it out now! This series basically talks about Bobby Dawson's life. Since he ain't one of the main characters in CSI, therefore there isn't much on him in the show. *shrugs* I thought it might be nice to put him in the "driver's seat" in my story for once. And since I'm obviously not a very good writer, I thought I'll tackle his life outside the lab which I'm more familiar with than inside the lab. Maybe after I get my diploma & managed to get into forensics too… *sighs* long way to go, gyuu-chan, long way… *brightens up a little* Anyways, I wanna sneak in my other favorite character, Greggo! Lol… so you have this 2nd chapter. I wouldn't call it a sequel if I were you. *wink*

Sorry if the jokes are lame to you. It was funny to me, so I guess that makes me lame. Oh well, we can't have the cake & eat it.

Thanks to vampie for being the 1st reviewer! *bows down* Hahaha… Do you know who is Bobby Dawson now? 

Thanks to *&^%$#, whoever you might be. Lol… hope this chapter clears things up for you.

Read and review!!!

^_~


End file.
